Wednesday, November 16, 2016

Like many writers I know, I have
been struggling with fiction writing this past week. I fear that my stories are
self-indulgent drivel. Worse, I fear that stories in general are useless—or rather,
that the only stories that have an effect in this world are broad propaganda which
foment rage, divide us, and blind us.

I say this even as I acknowledge
that I’ve turned to literature for comfort. I’ve been reading poetry. I see beauty
in art. But. . . but I wonder how much
it matters.

My reading picks this month were all
chosen before the U.S. presidential election. They are beautiful stories and
essays. Some of them are very dark. Some are hopeful. Some ring not only with
defiance, but with ferocious burn-the-world-down rage that resonates
uncomfortably with me at this moment, when I think that the politics of nihilism
have brought my country to this point.

I’m sharing these stories, though. Even
if I can’t write myself, I can boost other voices.

I don’t know what good a story
does. I don’t know what a single poem or song can do.

I don’t know, I don’t know.

Here, read some beautiful things.

Liminal Stories

The second issue of Liminal Stories amply fulfills the promise of the first. Together,
these six stories take up the theme of escape. In some instances, it’s literal
escape from a witch’s house or tormenting captor. It’s escape from an abusive
relationship. Or it’s the escape (no less real, no less important) from the weight
of history and societal expectations, from the invisible strictures which hem
you in, which attempt to keep you from being who you are and who you want to
be.

L. Chan is a writer to watch, a
spinner of delightfully original tales (See his story about garbage-scavenging
cyborg whales here). Set in a futuristic Seoul, “The Symphony of Park Myong Lee” is about a
cloned K-pop star seeking freedom from her oppressive management company. This
future world is wonderfully, fully realized; it’s fast-paced, sharp, and
everything that happens clicks just
right. The ending twist had me cheering.

Oh, this aching, gorgeous, yearning
piece. A boy comes of age in post-Communist Romania, in a village and family haunted
by violence and ghosts of the past. This piece is so beautifully written,
skillfully twisting fantasy and dark reality. This is a story of survival. In the
aftermath of darkness and loss, life continues and tries its best to embrace
light.

This gentle, shimmering story is so
wonderfully funny and quiet and aching. Quirky, grieving, science-loving Bernice
Chan does not get along with the nuns of Saint Gregory Middle School. But one
of her teachers is not exactly what Bernice thought. A truly lovely story of
connections, of how we’re perceived and who we are beneath; of seeking freedom.

I almost hesitate to recommend this
for anyone looking for hope these days. But it’s an astonishing, gripping
piece; a fully realized, original, intriguing world. I started reading and
couldn’t stop; the tension and pacing never flag. It’s beautifully done, and
yes, the ending is absolutely, heart-wrenchingly devastating.

If you can’t take angst right now,
then please try this piece. It’s a wonderful, rollicking, enchanting adventure.
The world and characters are apparently from Dellamonica’s Stormwrack novels
(which I need to add to my TBR pile), but it’s okay if you haven’t read those
books; this story stands alone. And it’s made
by the narrative voice of Tonio, a supremely self-confident, charming boy of
twelve who steals away on a ship in search of adventure. Here’s an example of the
witty prose and Tonio’s self-possession:

Garland found me belowdecks the first night, heaving into a
barrel. He didn’t say anything, just hitched himself onto another a nearby
trunk. He waited until the sickness passed, then passed me a flask of water
sweetened with mint.

“Well,” I said, determined to make the best of it,
though in truth I was crushed he’d seen me in such a state. I wasn’t in love
with Garland—I knew well he was too old for me and inclined to women—but he had
a face so infernally bewitching that you had to care for his good opinion. “The
weather must be very bad, no?”

This is another example of a story
that is absolutely made by the voice
of its narrator. A chef who is also a formerly competitive cyclist works
through his midlife crisis in a most unusual way. I adore the world-weary,
resentful voice of the narrator. And no, I’m not being snarky. I have a true weakness
for complicated, not-always-sympathetic-but-basically-decent characters who are
seething with resentments (I guess I
identify?). In this case, the narrator resents growing old and growing up,
losing the sense of freedom and possibility he once had. Hey look, I guess I
understand. This is a tense, dark ride with an audacious premise that delivers
(it’s also grounded so well in details that I think the author must have worked
as a chef and been a serious cyclist. . . or he’s done a hell of a job of
research).

An incredibly unnerving horror
story. The Get-Get Man captures all the dread of dark urban legends, the stories
that you and your childhood friends told each other at slumber parties to freak
each other out. Consider me freaked out. A dark story of wanting.

There have been many retellings of
The Little Mermaid through the years, many of them involving mermaid vengeance.
But you haven’t seen vengeance quite like this. The prose is intense and
visceral, gorgeous and richly horrific.

I found this story perhaps the most
horrific one of this month’s list--drawing on real history and resonating eerily
with current political events. A house once loved the child who lived within
its walls. The house was turned into place of torture and death by an
oppressive political regime. The house will take revenge. This bleak story
uncomfortably probes at innocence, erasure, collective sin and responsibility. This
is a narrative of rage and pain. Deeply powerful.

I don't do sports anime, thought I. I don't do slice-of-life. I like action and angst; I don't go for gentle, kind, heart-warming things. I was SO WRONG.

Yuri Katsuki is a Japanese figure skater who, at age 23, may be facing the end of his competitive ice-skating career. Having bombed the major international competitions of the season, he finishes college and returns home, depressed and ashamed. While trying to regain his love for skating, he practices the winning routine of his skating idol, Viktor Nikiforov. A video of Yuri perfectly skating Viktor's routine goes viral and catches the attention of Viktor himself, who flies to Japan to be Yuri's coach.

This anime does things I didn't know could be done; it's shown me that triumph and uplift can squeeze a heart as surely as tragedy and pain. This is a lovely, lovely story of a depressed, shy, insecure young man growing up, gaining confidence, opening up, discovering his sexuality and yes, falling in love for the first time. It's gaining wide attention as a groundbreaking example of legitimate gay representation in anime (as opposed to the usual fetishistic baiting). It's tender and sweet, funny and raunchy and hot, with beautiful music and animation. Real Olympic figure skaters have been praising the realism with which it captures the sport.

It is a good, pure thing. I need this in my life right now.

I think that maybe fiction is needed to depict the worlds we want, as well as the world as it is.

Monday, November 14, 2016

Okay, popping in here briefly for some writing news/self-promo time.(It's been a hard few days. I know. I've been struggling to write. . . I know many people now struggling to write.But here goes).--My publisher is running a discount promo on my fantasy novelette, The Lilies of Dawn. Today and tomorrow only (11/13 thru 11/14), the ebook version is available for $0.99. If you click directly on the sales links (Amazon, Kobo, etc), you'll see the discounted price.http://annorlundaenterprises.com/books/the-lilies-of-dawn/--I have a sea fairy-tale, "All the Souls Like Candle Flames," coming out in Luna Station Quarterly on December 1. It's a story about a Sea-Witch, a white gull, and a little brown fish. --I have a dark fantasy story, "Of Milk and Blood," coming out in Unsung Stories on December 9. It's a story about demons and fear.I am still trying to write. Sometimes it feels useless. Often it feels useless. But let's all just keep going.Take care, everyone.